I opened my eyes slowly.
The room was still dim, washed in soft shadows that blurred the edges of everything around me. Above, the canopy of the bed was barely visible in the darkness.
For a moment, I remained still, listening.
Something had woken me.
I turned my head towards the window. The curtains were closed, with a faint light slipping through the edges. My eyes narrowed at it, a feeling of forgetting something I shouldn't have washed over me, striking with a familiarity of deja vu.
Then a noise came again—hurried and loud like a woodpecker relentlessly hammering at a tree, and it did not take long until a maid came in without so much as waiting for me to permit her to enter. My eyes followed her in a dazed state, watching her scurried along to my side.
Seeing how flustered she was, there must be something urgent.
"What's the matter?"
I tried to sit down lazily, but a dull ache suddenly spread across my body, jolting me awake. What in the world happened to me? I stretched my arms again, trying to see whether it was just one of those days where you slept at the wrong side of the bed, but felt like I was rammed over by a car. Huh? Did I fall from the bed? This time, I tried to move carefully while every inch of my muscle protested. My arms were sore, my legs felt heavy, and even my neck felt like someone twisted it while I was asleep.
I don't remember doing anything strenuous last night that would leave me in this half-dead body state.
"Miss, you have a guest downstairs." The maid lowered her head, arms outstretched. I glanced at the polished silver tray she's carrying, on top of it was a small white envelope with a red stamp on it. I did not take it, the stamp is the family symbol.
"Is it mother again?" I stretched my arms like I was reaching the sky then twisted my neck to the right and left. "Didn't she just visit yesterday?"
"No, miss." The maid shook her lowered head. "There's a… man downstairs. He said he was a guest of your mother and had given us this letter."
Alexander?
Puzzled, I took the letter and opened it with a cutter, a strong, floral scent emanating strongly from it. The smell of lily. My mother's scent. In the few meetings that we had, it was the scent I always caught from her.
Mr. William Carrington is an important guest of the house. Let him stay a few months before he goes back to France.
Lily Bennett
Reading the letter again, a nostalgic feeling suddenly hit me. The name, elegant and beautiful, looks like I heard of it before. I scrunched up my nose in confusion and decided to just give it a rest. Maybe he was one of those powerful figures that was mentioned to me before.
"I will get ready. Lead the guest to the dining hall and prepare a small breakfast lest he hasn't had yet."
She looked back at me, her face showing a hint of unease. I raised my eyebrow and she immediately lowered her head again. "Miss, it's already half past noon."
My eyes widened and it darted towards the closed curtain then the wall clock hanging in the middle of the room. The small hand is pointing exactly at number twelve.
Oh. Did I oversleep? As far as I remember, I slept early last night. Exhausted from meeting my mother, I decided to call it a day.
Am I that tired?
"Then just lead him to the drawing room." I removed the blanket from myself. "And prepare a light meal for me too. Can you also draw back the curtain before you go?"
Only after the maid had closed the door behind her did I try to move again. Because of my aching body, I took my time preparing and doing my hair into a half bun, letting half of it to fall down. My dark hair is almost reaching my waist now, and it's been really hard to style it.
***
Opening the door to the drawing room, my eyes instantly caught wind of beautiful, long blond hair. It looks so majestic that a feeling of envy almost made me choke.
I cross the room, heels clicking as it steps on the marble floor—alerting the guest of my presence. He turned his head to his left, his eyes locking onto mine. I stared back at him, dazed, he has these beautiful steel blue eyes that reminds me of a long harsh winter— cold, intimidating, and unforgiving. And his hair, I looked at it again, it was a long pale ash-blond hair, almost the color of muted champagne, that falls past his shoulder and is gathered loosely to a low ponytail. It isn't exactly meticulously styled, wispy strands had escaped around his face, softening his otherwise cold appearance.
The man suddenly stood up, closing the space between us. Surprised at the sudden closeness, I instinctively took a step back. This man… I did not expect him to be this tall, he is a head taller forcing me to look up to him.
He slightly nodded his head, his lips curved into a soft, courteous smile that erases his previously stoic demeanor.
"Miss Bennett?" He called. His voice—smooth, unhurried and strangely hypnotic, turned my blood cold.
Memories of the night before suddenly emerged like a crash of waves, catching me off-guard.
That voice… It was the same voice I heard before darkness swallowed me whole, dragging me into its endless abyss. I balled my fist, the clammy feeling in my palm left me feeling unsettled. I secretly wiped it off on the side of my dress, acting as nonchalant as I could. I am still unsure of what really happened that night. It could have been a dream or hallucination, but hearing the same voice made me think if it was all real.
I smiled back at him. Wanting to look in control and confident, I led him back to the sofa.
"Hello, I'm Cordelia Bennett. I have received the letter you brought." I stretched my right hand, and he took it without a moment of hesitation.
"William Carrington." His grip tightened, making me look down at our hands. One is bare skin while the other is covered completely with a black leather gloves. Curious, my gaze traveled to his sleeves up to his chest, he was dressed in a dark suit, impeccably tailored, with a black necktie fastened loosely at his throat. Against the dark color of his clothing, his blond hair stood in stark contrast, almost silver beneath the light.
Remembering where we are, I forcibly pulled back my hand, embarrassed that he caught me looking him up.
We both sat down.
"Can I ask why you agreed to stay in this estate, Mr. Carrington?" I motioned the maids to start serving food. I haven't eaten anything yet and it's the best excuse to forgive my rudeness a while ago. "By the way, it's not that I don't want you here. I'm just curious as not everybody likes living outside the city, let alone in a secluded place like this one."
Mr. Carrington stared back at me like he's looking at something that has sparked his interest. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his thigh as he intertwined his fingers between his knees.
"Mr. George Bennett and I are business partners. We met a few years back, and now we are working on a project in London together." He paused, letting the maid pour tea on his cup. "I've been traveling here and there for business and since this one is going to take a long time I have requested to let me stay in one of his estates. I asked for something surrounded by nature. It helps me think better."
I simply nodded at him as he continued on, my mind drifting back to the voice I heard last night. "Mr. Bennett insists I stay here."
Taking the cup from the table, I took it as an excuse to lower my head. I glanced at my own reflection from the tea—tired and stiff, I looked like a ghost who hadn't realized she was dead. I swallowed a gulp, composing myself again.
"No worries, Mr. Carrington. I just hope you don't mind if we are a bit lacking in hospitality here. As you have known, this estate is secluded so we only have a few maids and attendants working here."
"How about you?"
I looked back at him. "Pardon?"
He leaned back, crossing his legs with unhurried ease. "Why is the precious daughter of the Bennett's staying in this secluded place?"
Taken aback, I felt my heart racing like a drum beating. Does he know? I doubt my family would tell him about me. That would have been a disgrace to them.
"Preference." I stood up, wanting to get out as soon as possible as his gaze pierce onto me like a poisoned arrow—slowly suffocating me, leading to my own demise. "I won't keep you for long, Mr. Carrington."
I walked towards the door and stopped. There is one more important question that I needed to ask. The one that I've been dying to ask. I pivoted to face him. He was still sitting comfortably while looking at the large window, emitting an air of elegance like a nobleman.
"By the way, Mr. Carrington. If you don't mind me asking, what time did you arrive again?"
He turned his head, his steel blue eyes meeting mine. "This afternoon? Your family driver drove me here."
Hearing those confirmation, I breathed a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding. Was I that nervous? Did I just unknowingly accuse an innocent person?
I smiled awkwardly. "Then I suppose you're tired from your journey. Please let the maids know if you need anything." I reached for the knob. "I'll be leaving first."
Nodding, he turned his gaze back towards the window. I stared at his broad back, a strange sense of loneliness emanating from it, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something dangerous lurked behind those polite smiles. I shook my head and left the room at once, before he could catch me watching him again.
"Please tend to his needs." I instructed the attendants and maids waiting outside the door. "See to it that he met his needs."
"Yes, Miss."